a long time to be alone
by Yotsubadancesintherain5
Summary: Jefferson goes to surprise Miles with lunch and learns something he needed to hear.


**A/N: Originally posted on AO3 on July 19 2019**

**Inspired by a tumblr post that I can't link here, but you can find on the AO3 version of this fic.**

Jefferson had a rare day off, on a week day, which usually would've been met with some mild annoyance but when he got the idea to surprise Miles with a trip to lunch the annoyance went away.

The school allowed lunch off-campus with a reasonable distance, and Jefferson would find Miles in his dorm. He'd act all official and serious until he got to the part about going to lunch. Invite Miles' roommate, or partner in crime in this scenario, if he was available and that they could get an all expenses paid trip to a local restaurant for lunch.

Miles would have some slight embarrassment at the bit but eagerly help Ganke Lee to his feet and they would all go to lunch.

There was a rut in the plan when Jefferson actually made it to the school because Miles was waving to Ganke Lee. Miles was going off-campus and Ganke Lee disappeared back into the school. Jefferson raised an eyebrow, but figured Miles would go off somewhere else for lunch.

It was until Miles began walking in the direction opposite the local restaurants, and Jefferson got a seed of worry in his stomach. It was hard not to, remembering when Miles wasn't answering his calls and Aaron died not long after.

It was just to check on Miles, he told himself, and there was a little surprise when the New York main streets turned to rows of houses. Miles stopped at one and was invited inside.

The house looked familiar, and there were some candles and Spiderman memorabilia on the sidewalk outside the house. So it was Spiderman's, Peter Parker's rather, home. Perhaps the home of his aunt or wife.

Miles might've had some admiration for Spiderman but it was rude to encroach on Peter Parker's family home. Jefferson got out of the car and knocked on the door. It opened after the third knock.

He recognized the woman's face, May Parker, and remembered that the day Spiderman died her place was swarmed with mourners and sometimes pilfers looking to take a memento of their hero. He didn't suspect Miles of the latter but all the same it would take a toll on someone to be constantly reminded that their loved one was dead, local hero or not.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion, ma'am, but my son just went into your house, and I'm making sure he's not overstepping his boundaries."

May blinked at his words and before she could reply Jefferson spotted Miles sitting on the couch. He had a sheepish look on his face.

"Miles," Jefferson said, "You aren't bothering her, are you?"

"Uh, dad, this is for, uh, a humanities class to teach old ladies about the proper… décor for floral patterns, both on wallpaper and pillows and, uh…"

He was enormously lucky that Miles was such a bad liar.

"Miles, dear, it's all right," May said. "I'll speak with your father."

Miles mutely nodded; Jefferson and May stepped out of the house.

"Ma'am, as I said, I'm terribly sorry if Miles has been bothering you."

"Oh, he's no bother," May replied, "He came by to help me with my home not long after my Peter… passed. MJ has so much on her plate and these bones just aren't what they used to be."

Jefferson recognized the contortion in her face when she said Peter passed. It was probably the same he made when he talked to Rio about Aaron. And he realized then that it was her son that died, in an accident that could befall anyone.

Peter was young, started so, so young with the Spiderman business, and that was what hit harder than realizing that the faceless hero had an identity, had a life, and a family; something that he could never go back to because of an earthquake, a natural disaster.

People said that it was so hard to bury your child, and it was something Jefferson began to fear more acutely when Aaron died.

"Miles is a good kid," May said, like she read his mind. "You know. He's helped me a lot. You've raised a good boy."

Jefferson only nodded, and spoke again when he could trust his voice.

"I followed my son so that I could surprise him and take him to lunch. Would you like to join?"

"Oh, it's all right, MJ was going to drive me somewhere soon," May said. "I'll let him know."

"Ah, there's no rush," Jefferson added, "Thank you for your time, ma'am."

May nodded and slipped back into the house. Jefferson went back to the car to start it up, and he sat in the silence for a few seconds.

The tears came quick, when her words echoed in his mind, that it reassured all his fears. It was so hard to lose Aaron, the first time when they were kids and then when he no longer had the option to fully reconcile.

It was another thing entirely to hear that Miles was a good kid; that he wouldn't lose his son, too.

By the time Miles got the car with a, "Hi, dad," Jefferson had cleaned his face of his tears. He put the car into drive, began driving, and gauged the silence before speaking.

"Hey, Miles," Jefferson said, "I got something to tell you."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Miles nod.

"You know how much I didn't like the old Spiderman," Jefferson said, "But after his death, I think something snapped into place, you know. Him, and this new kid, ah, I understand what kind of risks they put up with. And this new Spiderman, I think he's a good kid, too. New York's lucky to have him."

There was an unusual silence. Miles fidgeted in his seat.

"You can, uh, you can tell Spiderman that, right?"

"Yeah, dad," Miles said, with a soft tone to his voice that Jefferson didn't understand but didn't want to pry, "I can tell Spiderman that."

"I'm sure he has a homepage on the, uh, world wide web?"

"Dad, was that a _pun_?"

Miles' incredulous look was enough to dash away the immense emotions Jefferson was having just a few moments ago.

"It's a yes or no question, son," he replied with a laugh.

"Yes, Spiderman does have a homepage, and a lot more than that."

"See, it's a lot easier to get into contact with people now, even celebrities," Jefferson said, "Back in my day you would have to scour for the number of your local hero and then spew out your entire message on the call collect identification service."

"What's call collect?"

"Oh Lord."

Jefferson explained in great detail about when he was a kid he had to find a nasty payphone, hold the grimy receiver as far away from his face as possible, and get his entire message in the identity service, "MomI'mreadytogohomeloveyou," because paying for the actual call charges was expensive.

Miles was aghast. It was the sort that was endearing, and Jefferson thought right then that he was incredibly lucky to have his son.


End file.
